


Meant to Stay Hid

by TheCowArmy



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deh - Freeform, Eating Disorders, Heavy Angst, Implied Self-Harm, M/M, Meant to Stay Hid - SYML, Mentioned suicide, One-Shot, Sad, Self-Harm, Song Fiction, Songfic, Suicide, an au ig, bmc, crying basically all the way through, dear evan hansen - Freeform, deh (mentioned), full fuckin angst, im so sorry, michael actually offed himself, sad shit, syml
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCowArmy/pseuds/TheCowArmy
Summary: Jeremy experiences a loss. Through time, he learns to accept it, although it doesn't stop him from missing his best friend and his lover.This is a song fic! There will be quotes from the song that relate to the story. The song is Meant to Stay Hid by SYML if you choose to listen to it first!Trigger warnings will not be mentioned when they come. If you are sensitive toward anything the tags list, please do not read.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	Meant to Stay Hid

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second story that I've finished this year. 
> 
> This is a songfic, inspired by the song Meant to Stay Hid by SYML, so if you'd like, please listen to it!
> 
> Enjoy!

_I wasn’t built for this, my head can’t make any damn sense of this so it sings._

Jeremy felt so nervous to enter the Mells’ house. His hands were sweaty to a point where every time he had to wipe them on his jeans, it left a wet imprint, and they were shaking, so that didn’t help at all. 

He stood in front of their door, his finger hovering above the doorbell. He used to just barge in and sit on the couch, and when Michael would come up the stairs, sometimes he would let out a little shriek and jump backwards before he realized it was Jeremy. He had laughed and he kept doing it, eventually getting Michael used to the sight of Jeremy watching TV in his living room unannounced.

He pressed the doorbell, his heart thumping hard, and he could hear the chime ringing out inside. Maybe he should just back out and come a different day. They wouldn’t mind. They would understand. But staying strong was the main goal during this time, so wiping the sweat from his palms again, he waited until he heard footsteps from inside, coming up to the door.

Maria Mell opened the door. She wore a lazy outfit, consisting of a dark hoodie and light sweatpants, but Jeremy was used to it. In fact, it suited her well. Everything did. She had little makeup on, but around her puffy eyes was an area where no makeup existed. “Hi, honey. I’m glad you could come.”

“Me too,” Jeremy nodded, folding his hands behind him so he wouldn’t seem as nervous. “How-how are you?”

Maria looked away, her eyes becoming watery. Jeremy felt guilty for asking. “I’m holding on... how about you?”

“It’s hard,” Jeremy refrained from adding anything else, scared of making her break down or making himself breaking down, even though he had done so many times in front of her before, even before the incident. Maria opened the door and stepped out of the way, inviting Jeremy inside. 

_Can’t remember the smell and I can’t recall the taste, but I try everyday._

It smelled different, but the same. It had been a while since Jeremy had came over to the Mell’s. The scent was much fresher. Usually a hint of weed would fill the air. Everything was untouched except the pillows on the couch and the few things that sat on the kitchen table and counter. 

“Feel free to get something to eat out of the kitchen,” Maria offered, her voice soft. Jeremy nodded, but he wouldn’t be going through their kitchen for he didn’t feel hungry. In fact, he hadn’t felt that hungry for a while. There were some days where he’d eat everything in the kitchen, unable to get rid of the feeling of hunger as if his stomach were a black hole, some days where everything felt normal, and he’d eat and savour it, but then there were days where eating felt impossible, and that nothing had a taste. This would be the fourth day in a row where eating seemed unimportant. 

A sound erupted from the kitchen, as if a cup was being placed into the sink, and from behind the wall, Samantha Mell made her appearance, her outfit similar to her wife’s, but instead the hoodie, she wore a zip-up overcoat, a loose white shirt underneath, but just like Maria, she looked good in everything. She looked at Jeremy and immediately came over to hug him. He returned the hug slowly.

“Hi, baby,” She mumbled into him. They had become a second son to them. She then pulled away from him, her gentle grip on his arms. “How are you?”

“It’s hard,” Jeremy repeated, not wanting to get into things. She nodded in understanding before stepping away from him, giving him the space that he needed. The whole month had been hard. “You?”

She only nodded as a response and turned around. “We won’t keep you for long. We weren’t sure if you were even ready to return,” She headed into the kitchen, disappearing behind the corner, and then returned with a small envelope in her hand, now walking slower and looking down at it. 

She stopped a few feet away from Jeremy, gently caressing the paper, but careful enough not to hurt the paper and cause creases. It took a minute for Jeremy to notice the tears that rolled down Samantha’s cheeks. Discreetly wiping his hands on his jeans, he knew exactly what was in her hands.

“He left this for you,” She whispered. She stretched her arm out toward Jeremy and with ease yet fear, he took it from her hand and looked down at it, seeing his name written in Michael’s wonderfully messy handwriting. “We didn’t want to open it.”

_If I wasn’t so afraid, I’d shine a light up to space._

Tears began forming in his eyes, amplifying the blueness of them. He blinked them back, though, afraid to cry. He shouldn’t be when there was a woman right in front of him crying, and one behind him most likely crying, but he couldn’t take crying in front of them.

His finger caressed his name, feeling the harsh indent of the blue pen ink on the envelope. He wondered if Michael did that on purpose; the colour. He knew that was Jeremy’s favourite colour. It made him wonder if he chose a different colour for his mother’s letters, if he wrote to them.

“Th-thank you,” He stuttered out quietly, looking back up at Samantha, meeting with her wet eyes.

“No... thank you,” Samantha spoke up slightly, but her voice still was quiet. “You were a huge part of his life. You meant so much to him. I’m sure you made every moment better for him.”

Jeremy’s breath got a little shaky and the painful lump in the back of his throat that made it hard to breathe suddenly hurt more. A tear fell down his face, and with a quick movement of his hands, he wiped it away. Sniffling, he looked back down at the letter to look at Michael’s writing again. 

After a few more minutes of being there and some long goodbyes, Jeremy was now walking back home, the letter still being held with both of his hands. He pulled down his sleeve and wiped his eyes again, trying not to get his tears on the envelope and making sure it stayed in pristine condition. 

The sun was setting by now, streetlights taking its place and disguising themselves as the sun. The sky littered with the faint outlines of stars and the moon. The few cars that had passed Jeremy on the road were the only noise breaking the silence on the warm April day.

Sniffling, he stepped up on his porch, but instead of heading inside, turning around, he sat down on the final step of the porch, his long legs making a 90 degree angle when his feet planted on one of the steps. His back was straight, a habit that he had picked up when he had the SQUIP, but it was soon broken when he leaned and used his elbows to prop himself up, the letter still in his hands. He could cry freely now without tears falling directly onto the letter, but he refused to let himself break. Not yet at least.

When he felt ready, Jeremy turned the letter over, his finger slipping under the fold and gently dragged it. Michael usually only licked the tip of the letter. A memory came to mind. They both sat in Michael’s room, and Jeremy was typing something on his phone while Michael was writing a letter to one of his family members in the Philippines. When he was done, he slipped it into an envelope and Jeremy watched as Michael only touched the tip of the sticky part with his tongue. 

**“You only lick the end?” Jeremy questioned, and as Michael sealed it, he nodded.**

**“It’s easier to do than just to lick the whole thing, and when they get it, it’ll be easier to open,” Michael smiled proudly, then said while tapping his temple, “Big brain.” Jeremy giggled.**

The fold separated from the letter. With a heavily beating heart, Jeremy lifted the fold and saw the lined paper underneath. He dropped the letter into this lap and covered his mouth, his shaking hands blocking the sob that was trying to escape his throat. 

He wiped the saliva that escaped from his mouth when his hand was pressed on it and then picked up the letter again, his breath uneasy and harsh, but he was too focused to have an anxiety attack. He gently grabbed the letter and pulled it out of the envelope, putting it to the side and holding the folded up letter in his two hands.

He could see Michael’s unusually neat writing through the paper in black pen. He flipped the first fold up, seeing Jeremy’s name at the top of the paper. He flipped down the other fold, the full letter right in front of his face. There was a staple in the top left corner.

_Then my soul could be strong enough to see your face._

The letter said:

“Jeremy Heere,

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. It never was, but here we are. I’m sorry. But, you’re probably wondering ‘why’?

Nobody else understands me except for you. What’s worse is, nobody wants to try. It was just you and me for my entire life. Maybe it was selfish for me to want a little more than that, because just you is all I need. You’re all that I could ask for. 

We were the losers. The school losers. And together, we ruled. We played out our high-school years like a video game and it was so much fun that way. But then, you got the SQUIP. You called me a loser. It tore me. It hurt so much. 

Years and years of being the loser; the weirdo who drives the PT Cruiser, the depressed stoner, the loner flying solo. I’ve decided that I have no place in this world. 

I’m giving up. I’m giving in to my desire to just not exist anymore. Nothing has been changing, or even getting better. I thought that waiting till college would be great, since I’ve said it a million times; guys like us are cool in college. But I now realise it’s not worth it anymore. 

As your boyfriend, I want to say this: It’s not your fault. In fact, you’ve made everything so much better. From text-messages, to chilling and videogaming, to getting high together, to making out on my bed, every moment with you I will forever cherish. 

I like to imagine in the future that we went to college together, and got an apartment instead of a college dorm. And then after college we’d head off to work and then come home with each other and talk about our day, and then eat dinner together. 

And then years later, we could’ve, I dunno, got married. Had kids. Got dogs and cats. Lived in a nice house together. Had stable jobs that we enjoyed, like a video game designer or a Twitch streamer. And then through the years, we retire in a nice, fancy home, playing with our grandchildren and swimming in our own lake, spending every last hour with each other. 

But I can’t take this pain anymore. I’m not strong enough.

I’m going to leave you with this, Jeremy. I want you to find someone that you really enjoy being around. Find someone who gives you affection and attention when you want it. And please, give it back to them like you did with me. And don’t take things for granted. Enjoy every moment of life like it’ll be your last. I spent my last moment watching the sunset. When you get the chance, you should too. It’s very beautiful. 

I love you so much, Jeremy. 

Sincerely, for the last time, 

your loser,

your lover,

and your best friend of 12 years,

Michael Mell.”

Jeremy sat the letter on the side of him quickly, and then pressed both his hands against his face, blocking out as much sobbing as possible. If only he had the chance to go back to that day, and just show up at Michael’s house unannounced like he usually did, and ask how his day was and if he was doing alright. Maybe, then, he could’ve talked Michael out of doing such a horrible and scary thing to himself without even knowing it. 

Jeremy, his lip quivering and his hands wet, lowered his arms and rested them in his lap, looking to the night sky, the last bit of sun scattering colour everywhere. Michael was right. The sunset was beautiful. 

_One more day._

<=~•~=>

“Jeremy!” Samantha cheered and then wrapped her arms around him tightly. Maria stood behind her with a smile on her face. Once she broke the hug, she said, “We’re so glad you could come, but you really don’t have to do this if you don’t-“

Jeremy stuck a hand up, stopping her. A gentle smile remained on his face. “It’s really no problem. I’d be glad to help.”

Jeremy dressed in a nice, vertical-striped, white button up. The very thin stripes were a blue that matched his jeans. His shirt was tucked, making a clean transition. Wearing something formal wasn’t average for Jeremy. In fact, it felt a little weird. 

The two ladies let Jeremy in, a fresh smell of Apple sitting Jeremy’s nose. He looked over by the couch-side table, noticing a lit candle. He crouched down and began untying his shoes, knowing that the Mell’s disapprove of shoes inside. 

“We’ve already got a start, but it might be a while,” Maria chuckled and headed into the kitchen, grabbing a mug that Jeremy presumed was coffee. “He had a lot of stuff.”

“And feel free to take what you want,” Samantha added on, heading towards the staircase that led towards Michael’s basement. A sign on the door said “Warning: Video Game in Process” and it had a giant gaming controller on it. Jeremy remembered when he got that for Michael’s twelfth birthday. “Most of it, unfortunately, won’t be put to use and we’re not ready to sell anything.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy spoke once he got his shoes off. 

“How’s your senior year going, Jer?” Maria asked from the kitchen, after taking a swig from her mug. 

“It’s going well,” Jeremy folded his arms, a smile on his face. “I actually just got done with an interview at Middleborough’s College a few miles away from here. That’s why I’m so dressed up.”

“That’s great! How’d it go?” Samantha opened Michael’s door and started to head down to the basement and waved for him to follow. Jeremy nodded to himself and did just that. Maria followed behind him.

“I think I did pretty well!” Jeremy smiled and gripped the railing to balance himself going down the stairs. His smile faltered when suddenly smells entered his nose that he had almost forgotten about.

The room was in view now. His breath hitched and he froze, looking at Michael’s old room and memories flooding back to him. There were a few boxes around, each having a label on them. Dresser drawers were open and the contents inside filled a few boxes, them being labelled “clothes”. His TV had a sock on top of it, and a certain memory came to the front of his mind.

**“Why do you have a shirt on top of your TV?” Jeremy had giggled, pointing to it. Thirteen-year-old Michael smiled and shrugged, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing it.**

**“I read in a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book that if you put something that usually doesn’t belong on something, it’ll help you remember that you have to do something,” Michael had told him. “Speaking of which,” Michael stood up from his bed, heading to the TV and yanking off the shirt. “I have to go put the dishes away.”**

Jeremy looked away from the TV, but wondering what Michael had to remember, the bed now catching his eye. The blanket on top of it was messy and the pillow remained in the same position it always had been in. Jeremy’s pillow, which was always the blue one, was always tucked into the crack of the bed when he wasn’t around. There was an indent in the bed, it stretching all the way to the end. Tears filled his eyes in sudden realization.

Michael’s imprint was still left on the bed.

Crying in front of the Mell’s didn’t seem like a problem anymore. A hand flew to his mouth, holding back a sob. Everything felt numb to the point where he didn’t feel the hands rubbing his back and he didn’t hear the comforting voices of his best friend’s parents.

He closed his eyes tightly, pushing back the tears, but it caused the ones that had already formed to come down his face. Hands led him down the stairs, guiding him gently as Jeremy took unbalanced steps.

Had it really been a year since Jeremy saw his room?

Voices started to come back and he could hear again. He could also hear how loudly he was sobbing. “Honey, you really don’t have to do this.”

Jeremy shook his head and removed the hand from his mouth. “No, please,” He mumbled and wiped his face quickly. “It’s fine. I can do it. I want to do it.”

Looking back over to Michael’s room, he felt himself want to break down again, but he pushed as much of it as he could back and followed the Mells more into the room. Through his socks, his feet were reminded of the softness of Michael’s carpet and he almost wanted to just pace around to feel it. 

_I found notes that you hid, sharing secrets and fears that were meant to stay hid._

Jeremy started with helping the two women with boxing the clothes, sitting on the floor next to the dresser and pulling shirts out of it and neatly folding them. Michael never folded his shirts. They were always so wrinkly, but he always wore his hoodie over it, so he really didn’t think of it as a problem. Jeremy looked at each shirt, sometimes seeing a picture of Bob Marley on the front, sometimes a text, and sometimes nothing at all. Once done folding a shirt, he’d put in the box that sat next to him, labelled “shirts”. He must’ve gone through them quickly because when he stuck his hand back into the dresser shelf, he felt nothing.

But wait. Wood isn’t usually that smooth. Jeremy sat up and looked inside, seeing a hard cover notebook with text on the from that said something in Filipino. He took it out and held it in front of him, wonder beginning to fill his mind. 

He opened it gently, landing on the first page that was filled with scribbles, doodles and messy handwriting and dried wet spots. Jeremy began to read the few sentences at the top of the page.

“I don’t have anyone else to talk to, so I’ll write in here in occasion. Jeremy abandoned me. I’m such a loser, just like he said.”

Then there were things crossed out all around the page. Jeremy could just barely make out what looked to be an insult toward Michael, and his eyebrows furrowed in sadness. He flipped the page, his eyes tearing up for the second time today.

“Jeremy and I are friends again. Even after what he did, I still have a crush on him. God, I’m such a creep.”

Jeremy had known about Michael’s crush on him when they started dating, but he didn’t know how long the crush had lasted. Maybe, perhaps, the notebook would provide him with answers, and it might give Jeremy a clearer view on why he had done it when he seemed so happy. He flipped the page.

“Dating. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I’m dating Jeremy.”

A tear slipped from his eyes when they crinkled because of the smile on his face. He looked down the page, seeing more scribbled out words and sentences. He could make one out though. “You don’t deserve him.” His smile faltered immediately. He flipped the page.

“Everything is starting to hurt again. I’m scared. I don’t want to lose him. The first time was horrible.”

Jeremy’s breath stopped and he read the sentence again. Of course, the first time that Michael’s as referring to was the Halloween party, which Jeremy could never forgive himself for. He looked toward the bottom of the page, seeing dried red. An image came to Jeremy’s mind and he immediately shook it out, not wanting to think about it. He flipped to the next page. 

“These thoughts keep coming back.”

He flipped again.

“They hurt so much.

He flipped again.

“I can’t take this anymore.”

He flipped again. There was a lot of blood on this page.

“Today I decided to do some things before I said a final goodbye. Jeremy and I texted for a little bit, and we made out in my car after school. I wanted to go further, but I knew he wouldn’t be ready for that. But that’s okay. I love him. I’m going to miss him so much. I ate dinner with my moms too. And then I watched the sunset. But this is the end of my journey.”

And that was it. Jeremy flipped the page, and there was nothing else to be read. So, he closed the notebook gently and set it to his side, his eyes wet but no more tears would spill. In fact, Jeremy believed that he had cried too much this past year and he had ran out of tears. Right now, he just felt so numb. 

He wanted to tell the Mells what he had found, but he wondered if Michael would’ve wanted that. Seeing the blood on the pages would absolutely tear them apart, but maybe it would give them answers. 

He must’ve been sitting there for a while, staring at nothing, because he heard his name being called. He looked in the direction of the voice, seeing both Mrs. Mells looking at him with a concerned look on their faces. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy mumbled, then spoke up. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Jeremy opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, now looking at pants and hoodies. Specifically, Michael’s favourite hoodie. It was his red one with maybe fifty patches all over it, which he had hand sewn on it. Jeremy pulled it out of the dresser and laid it on his lap, looking at it and feeling the soft fabric of it and rubbing his fingers across a patch. 

“Could I...” Jeremy began, feeling selfish for wanting to keep Michael’s most worn clothing item. He continued to ask though, thinking that he would only ask for the hoodie, and the Mells could keep everything else. And plus, they were putting everything away. They'll be fine knowing it'll be put to use. “...keep this?” He lifted up the hoodie up for them to see.

A smile flashed across their faces, warm and sweet, but there was a hint of pain upon seeing the hoodie. “Of course, honey.” 

Jeremy looked at the hoodie and felt an urge. But he didn’t block it out though, and instead gave in to it. He slipped on the hoodie, the hood sitting at the top of his head after putting it on. It still had Michael’s scents on it: weed, his deodorant, and a hint of sweetness that he had smelled so many times before, but could never tell where it was from, but he had fallen in love with it. 

After caressing the hoodie for what seemed like an hour, he went back to helping pack up Michael’s clothing. He pulled out come cargo shorts and put them in a separate box from the shirts. He continued to do this, folding everything neatly as his mind wandered and remembered memories of when Michael wore each pair of pants, some seeming to be long forgotten, but Jeremy was grateful to have remembered them.

_Moving stuff out your room leaves me emptier than the room where you stayed._

By the time they were done packing things up, Jeremy ended up keeping two of Michael’s shirts and the hoodie. There were also some of his belongings that Jeremy decided to keep, such as souvenirs of the places the two had been, a few pictures of the two (the Mells wanted to keep the majority of them, which Jeremy had no problem with because he had a thousand of them on his phone), and a few other things that didn’t seem so significant, but it meant the world to him.

He held the shirts in his hand and put everything else in the abnormally large hoodie pocket. Boxes sat in the corner of the room, folded shut, some taped. They were all labelled.

The room was empty, and it made Jeremy feel something inside him that he couldn’t quite place. The bed had been stripped of the blankets and pillows, leaving the mattress exposed, the dresser was completely cleared off, (weird toys, video game discs, and papers used to fill it), and everything on the ground was gone, even little scraps of paper, because Maria vacuumed. 

Through the four hours that he had stayed there, helping his, basically, adopted mothers, every moment had been worth it. As Jeremy was about to walk out of the house, the Mells behind him thanking him relentlessly, he thought that this experience would help him grow. Maybe he could ask his therapist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Samantha asked again. Jeremy only smiled and shook his head. “We want to thank you for what you’ve done today.”

“No, it’s alright, don’t worry,” Jeremy finished tying his shoes and picked up the shirts as he stood up from the ground. “You guys have done so much for me already. This could be my way to pay you back.”

They simply smiled and embraced him in a hug. He looked to Maria, a hug from her being unexpected, but Jeremy quickly returned the hug, creating a group hug. It felt nice to feel a familiar warmth. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone. 

The hug broke and finally, the three said their goodbyes and Jeremy headed outside to his car, setting the shirts on the passenger seat and starting it up. He drove out of their driveway, beginning to head home. 

When he was stopped at a stop sign, Jeremy looked to his left for oncoming traffic, seeing it was empty. Then he looked to his right, seeing no one, but his eyes slowly trailed down to the shirts.

The CREEPS shirt sat on top, neatly folded, and Jeremy was brought back to that regretful night.

**“Get out of my way, loser.”**

Breath hitching, he looked away from it, an upset-looking Michael filling his vision. He shook his head and slowly pressed on the acceleration petal.

Michael said it wasn’t his fault. He said it in his letter. He said it in person. He proved it by bringing him Mountain Dew Red and rebuilding their friendship. Jeremy shook his head again and focused on the road, clearing his thoughts. 

But removing Michael from his thoughts only made him feel that same feeling when he was looking at the empty room. It felt like sharpening a pencil, and he felt like the pencil. It felt like someone was pushing him through the pencil sharpener, but it was all good, because he knew that the sharpener would make him pointy and nice again, and even smooth out the edges around him, but as soon as he was put to paper, the tip broke, and he needed to sharpen himself again. 

Then, Jeremy realised that inside himself was just a bunch of broken and weak lead, and no matter how many times you would try and sharpen the pencil, the lead would fall apart when it came in contact with paper. 

Jeremy pulled up in his driveway, his dads car gone, probably because he was at work. 

Maybe Jeremy should just throw out the pencil.

<=~•~=>

_If I wasn’t so afraid, I’d shine a light up to space._

“Happy birthday, Michael,” Jeremy laid down the flowers he had bought at his local florist, propping them up on Michael’s gravestone. “Nineteen, huh? I still have a month, but I’ll get there.”

Jeremy wore Michael’s hoodie and some black sweatpants because in college, you could wear anything and no one would even care. He once saw a woman in a full body Spider-Man suit walk in and act like everything was normal. 

Instead of standing over his grave, he decided he would take a seat instead, sitting down crisscrossed on the ground, close to the grave enough to feel the smoothness of the stone when he wanted to.

“I’m sorry I came so late,” Jeremy chuckled, looking up to the dimming sky. “It was a busy day. Pretty whacked, actually. My English teacher, Mrs. Smith, told me to come to the front of the class because she thought I wasn’t paying attention, and then she made me read from the book, and I had an anxiety attack after class,” Jeremy cleared his throat, hunching over himself. He hadn’t had a straight back for a couple years now. 

“But my friends helped me with it,” His eyes lit up in realization. “Oh my god, I haven’t told you about my friends yet! Okay, so,” Clapping his hands together. Jeremy had a smile on his face, picturing in his mind his three new friends. “About a month back I bumped into this kid named Evan Hansen and his friends, and we’ve been talking since. Evan, he’s quiet and shy but he’s a pretty chill dude once you meet him. Then there’s Connor Murphy. He smokes a lot and he’s kind of scary sometimes, but he’s a sweet kid. And then there’s Jared Kleinman, who’s an asshole but he’s not, like, a bully asshole, but more like a poke-fun-at-you-until-you-yell-at-him asshole. I’ve seen Connor snap at him sometimes and to be honest, it’s pretty funny.”

Jeremy looked to the grave, and slowly, he raised his fingers up to the lettering that was carved into it and felt the words, his fingers slowly dragging on an “M”. He sighed and brought back his hand, placing it in his lap. 

“It’d be a lot more fun with you around, though, that’s for sure,” He felt his eyes begin to water, but he didn’t mind. “I think you and Connor would be good friends. Not because both of you smoke, but you guys have pretty similar humour and I think you two would relate to one another. He can be pretty rebellious though, but I think you would too if you hung around him.

“Also, uh, Christine is going to my college. So is a lot of people from our school. I saw Rich in the bathroom, and Jake walking on two legs, and even Chloe and Brooke talking in the hallway. They started talking to me, and we are supposed to meet up after school one day and get some coffee or something, but we just haven’t decided on a day yet.”

Jeremy felt something warm come down his face. He wiped it, feeling his hand get wet. “Again, it would be a lot more fun if you were still...” His head hung low for a minute, thinking about what to say next. 

He whipped it back up toward Michael’s grave once he found his words. “You could’ve told me, Michael. It didn’t have to even be straight to my face. You could’ve shot me a text or called me or even wrote letters, I don’t fucking care, but you still didn’t give me a single sign that you were willing to go so far as to kill-“ Jeremy choked, wiping more tears off of his face using the sleeve of the hoodie. He decided not to finish that sentence and move on to the next. 

“Even though I want to, I’ll never be able to forgive you for doing that. You seemed to happy that day, but of course, I should’ve known it was a mask. I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell whether you’re okay or not.”

A breeze went through Jeremy’s long hair, bouncing it around his head. He felt cold, so he flipped up the hood and pulled down the sleeves to his fingertips. The only sound was psithurism. It was cold and cloudy out, and the wetness from the previous rain still laid itself around like it had made itself at home. A few drips fell from the sky. 

“It was my fault, wasn’t it?” Jeremy questioned, his voice low and sad. “You didn’t want to tell me how you felt because you were scared to tell the person who called you a loser that you were hurting so much, so how could I possibly believe that it wasn’t my fault?!” The last sentence was unintentionally loud, echoing into he cemetery. 

He thought about the letter again, remembering word for word what Michael had said. He had it memorized, because for a while, Jeremy would read it to himself before he went to bed when he felt so alone. 

Jeremy sighed, choosing his words. Slowly, he began to speak. “But at the same time, I believe you. Even after what I said to you, we started dating, and you proved to me that you forgave me for that. You showed me what love was. You showed me how to make someone happy. You showed me that you can’t kid around when you’re showing someone that you love them. You have to be sincere and true. Thank you for that.”

_Then my soul could be strong enough to see your face._

Jeremy looked on the grave again, staring at the lettering and the dates carved into it, and his eyes trailed downward, looking at the gifts that people had brought him. There was a patch being held down by a cup, and the patch looked to have an anti-suicide message on it. He looked to the other side of the cup, pinned down being a picture. He picked up the cup and took the picture from below it before setting it back down. He examined the picture.

Michael looked so happy in the photo, him wearing the hoodie that Jeremy wore. It looked like a school photo, but unlike every school photo that Jeremy had, Michael looked great. Based on the looks of it, it was Michael’s junior year photo. 

As much as he wanted to keep it, he decided that taking a picture of it on his phone would be a better option so he could at least have it until he could get a copy of his own. With tears flowing down his face, he put the picture back and stood up.

“Thank you for everything, Michael. I really mean it. I hope you know that you didn’t deserve to feel so horrible to the point where you felt that your only option was to end the game. Your memory deserves to live on, so as your birthday present, I’m promising you that when I have a kid, I’m naming him Michael,” And with that, Jeremy turned around and walked back towards the road, removing the wetness from his face. It was a miracle his voice didn’t completely shut down with all the cracking. 

He saw the Toyota up ahead and three figures moving around in it. As he got closer to it, the movement slowed. He opened the backseat door and got inside.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Evan asked sweetly as Jeremy buckled himself in. The two in the front seat turned their bodies toward Jeremy to check up on him and hear what he had to say.

With a deep breath, Jeremy said, “It was good. It felt nice to talk to him.” He wiped another tear that came down his face. “Thank you for bringing me here, Connor.”

“No problem,” He smiled gently before turning around and starting the car again. 

“Do you think he’d be mad that you stole his hoodie?” Jared asked, trying to lighten the mood. And of course, it worked.

Jeremy chuckled and wiped his face for the final time. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. I stole his clothes all the time, sometimes not even on purpose.”

The car began to move, and with one final look out the window, Jeremy thought of a goodbye to Michael, smiling at the thought of talking about his life next time he came to visit him.

But a thought lingered around his mind. He had thought about it before, but it had been a while for him to truly ponder the thought. What if he was given a chance to go back and help Michael, and talk to him, and give advice, and make sure that he wasn’t going through it alone. 

All Jeremy could ask for was...

_One more day._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Please, let me know of any mistakes (I had many issues trying to format this correctly) or help me improve my writing. I would love to hear kind feedback! 
> 
> Have a good day!


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